Perfect Timing
by Blitzy-chan
Summary: What if Captain Price had warned Ghost of Shepherd's betrayal in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Call of Duty games, nor the characters found within them. They belong to their respective creators. There is no profit made from this work of fiction, nor will there be in the future. This is purely for the enjoyment of the readers.**

**Author's Note: I hated how these two were killed. This possibility had been dancing around in my head for a while, and it took me a while to figure out how to make it seem logical. If there is anything that's not, please let me know. As always, constructive critism is welcomed, preferred even. A writer cannot get better without input from their fans.**

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><p>"Ghost, come in! This is Price! We're under attack by Shepherd's men in the boneyard! Soap, hold the left flank! Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, do not trust Shepherd! Soap, get down!" The rushed words from one of their captains was shouted into the lieutenant's ear.<p>

At that moment, Shepherd fired a bullet from his .44 Magnum, the bullet tearing savagely through Roach's abdomen. "No!" The word tore from his throat before he could stop it. He pulled his weapon up, sidestepping in the process. Without a sideways glance to the lieutenant, another bullet left the revolver, sinking itself deep into Ghost's side. He fell. The Task Force member looked over to Roach, his heart lifting slightly at the realization he was alive. Behind his skull balaclava and a pair of dark red sunglasses, his eyes were hidden from Shepherd and his men. He was, as far as they were concerned, dead.

Ghost forced his body to go limp, and resisted the urge to flinch and stiffen as he felt two pairs of hands on him, one at the shoulders, the other his feet, lifting him. He allowed his head to lull to the side, watching as Roach was thrown into a pit moments before his own body joined his subordinate's. Ghost allowed his body to roll, his head landing in a position where he could clearly see Roach. The black haired man was staring back, brown eyes focused on Ghost's limp body. Ghost then felt the liquid stream against his body, watching as it was poured over Roach as well.

The smell wafted through his balaclava, filling his nose. Gasoline. Bloody hell, they're burning us alive!

The pain engulfted him quickly, and then his body did flinch, every muscle tightening as the pain flared through his already sore body. Ghost bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out in pain. He heard laughter, the sound fading away as the group left. The sounds of helicopter blades grew silent too as they sped away, carrying along with them traiters. Ghost slowly pushed himself to his knees, the flames engulfing both men, burning their clothing, licking at their skin. He grabbed Roach's vest, sluggishly pulling the smaller man from the flaming tomb. Once clear of the fire, he threw his weight onto Roach, ignoring the white hot pain biting into his own flesh from the flames tearing ruthlessly into his clothing, burning them away slowly. Using his own body weight, he forced the flames on Roach to smoulder out under him. He was prepared for death. He had accepted it a long time ago. Roach however, never did. He had his whole life ahead of him. Ghost was ready to go, but he would save his partner.

A hand grabbed onto his gear, forcing the weakened man off his wounded partner. The lieutenant struggled in the grip, but the man was strong. He forced Ghost onto the ground, and threw a suit of leaves and grass onto him. The flames licked at the material. "Ghost, stop struggling. It's Archer." At the voice, Ghost did as instructed, and looked over at Roach, seeing Toad using his own ghillie suit to put out the flames. It was then Ghost realized Archer had used his own suit to dampen and suppress the flames that danced across the lieutenant's body.

"You alright?" Ghost turned to look at Archer, an icy glare hidden by his balaclava, though Archer must have been able to sense the aura because he raised his hands, taking a step back. "Whoa, no need to get so hostile, Sir."

His head turned to Roach, looking the young soldier over with a critical eye. He was the FNG of the 141. Well, since Allen died, he was. "How is he?" At the question, Toad looked up quickly, but his gaze landed back on the severely wounded man. His hands ran over Roach's abdomen, wrapping gauze around the wound, pulling it tight.

"Weak. If we don't get you to a proper medic, we'll loose the both of you." Toad looked up once more, his gaze suddenly searching the surrounding area. Bodies littered the forest, most of them belonging to the Ultranationalists, though Scarecrow's body was fairly close by. "Where'd Archer run off to?"

Ghost looked around from his position on the ground, his gaze not finding the sniper. His earpiece startled the injured man, Captain MacTavish's voice filling his ear. "Roach? Ghost? Come in, Ghost. Do you copy? Does anyone copy?" The words of his captain were rushed, panicked almost.

"We're both alive. Burnt like hell, but alive. Tell Price he saved our hides."

"Thank God. Ghost, listen. Be careful out there."

"You worry about your own back, Sir. Kill Shepherd for us, alright Captain?"

"No need to ask. Price and I are already enroute to his location now. Go underground. Find any 141 members you can, and stay out of the radar."

"Read ya loud and clear, Sir." Contempt, Ghost allowed his head to fall back onto the grass below him. Toad came over, a large, calloused hand toaching his side, pressure on his still bleeding wound. The sound of a vehicle approaching rang through the clearing, and Toad looked up, free hand automatically reaching for the Intervention beside him. His hand paused on the sniper rifle however, before moving completely away from the weapon. "It's Archer." Archer came over, and when directed, placed his hands where Toad's had been less than a second before. "Archer, keep pressure on that wound." Ghost ground his teeth together, trying to keep from crying out in pain from Archer's hand on his wound. Toad patched the wound up the best he could, and Archer removed his hands. Ghost was panting. Hard.

"Lucky Bastard." His voice was forced through clenched teeth, trying to work through the pain in his side.

"Who?" Toad looked at Ghost eyes screwed up in puzzlement.

"Roach. He was passed out." At his reply, both snipers turned to look at the black haired man.

"He was shot before you, Ghost. He also took a mortar. You were pulling him, remember?"

Ghost growled. "He's still a bloody lucky bastard." Archer laughed slightly, Toad just shrugged.

"Toad, help me get the two into the truck. We gotta get out of here before Shepherd or Makarov decides to show up." Archer grabbed Roach by his shoulders, while Toad got his legs. The short trip to the truck was watched constantly by Ghost. He didn't miss a beat. The two snipers took their time, not wanting to jostle his wounds. They layed him on the back seat of the large truck, and came back to Ghost. He was carried in much of the same way, loaded beside Roach onto the backseat. The snipers had layed Ghost and Roach in such a way that the two were both laying in ways that were comfortable, and also didn't jostle their wounds so much. Ghost was leaning against the side of the vehicle, both his legs stretching across the back of the seat. Roach was laying the other way, his body in front of Ghosts, layed across the seat.

Ghost watched Roach as the younger soldier stirred, groaning as his muscles tightened in protest. "You look like hell, Mate." At his lieutenant's words, Roach looked over to Ghost, glaring at his superior.

"You don't look much better." Ghost chuckled, but gripped his side as pain wracked through his body, refusing to release the hold it had on him. "What happened?"

Ghost looked at his subordinate, and the the truck grew quiet as it continued on its path. The three waited for Ghost to answer the question Roach had asked him. He sighed. "Shepherd betrayed us. Price warned me right before Shepherd shot you. His soldiers threw us into a ditch where they burned our bodies. I dragged you out, then Toad and Archer showed up, and Toad dressed our wounds." He paused. "Captain MacTavish informed me he and Captain Price were going after Shepherd. He told us to go underground."

Silence followed his words. "So what now?" Toad spoke, though he didn't look away from the road.

"We follow MacTavish's orders and go underground. Hopefully, they will contact us, then we go from there." Ghost allowed his head to fall back onto the seat, his dark green eyes closing in the process. "Just take us to Delta Eagle."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Call of Duty games, nor the characters found within them. They belong to their respective creators. The only original character used so far in the story is Doc. Even Kingfish is not owned by me. There is no profit made from this work of fiction, nor will there be in the future. This is purely for the enjoyment of the readers.**

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><p>"Ghost, Roach. Wake up." Brown eyes opened, and Roach looked at his commander, who was still asleep. "We're at Delta Eagle. Come on Roach." Toad grabbed Roach, wrapping the latters' arms around Toad's shoulders, carrying the soldier into the house. "Come on. Doc is inside." Doc. He was a field medic in the Australian Special Air Service, before he was drafted to the 141 for his excellent medical skill, and his bravery for treating the wounded on the battlefield, even with mortars falling around him.<p>

A tall, blonde haired man appeared in the wooden doorway, holding the door open as his blue eyes surveyed the surrounding area, seeking out any threats. "Hurry Toad." His thick accent was easy to place. Toad just glanced at him, before entering the house and heading towards the back room, where many cots were set up against the windowless walls. It was one of the safe houses Ghost had used before joining the Task Force. How Archer was able to tell where Delta Eagle was, was beyond Roach.

Toad, with the help of Doc, placed Roach onto the cot, where Doc stood on one side of the bed, Toad on the other. "Once I take these bandages off, put pressure on the wound." Doc looked up, and Toad nodded. "On three. One. Two. Three." The two medics worked quickly, Doc unwrapping the bandage, and Toad placing his hand over the wound, pressing down on it, hard. Roach closed his eyes, the pain and tiredness within sweeping over him quickly. A hand slapped his face. "Keep your eyes open. Talk to me, Roach." The black haired man glared at the medic.

His eyes stayed open, the glare in their brown pools still evident. If he could keep that glare, his eyes wouldn't close. He felt experienced hands at his abdomen, poking, prodding, hurting. His eyes squinted in pain, and they did not open.

Another slap to his face, this time, harder. "Don't you dare close your eyes, Roach." This time, it was the American, Toad. "Where were you before the 141?"

Roach gritted his teeth against the pain. He felt a prick in his arm, aware of the IV Toad slid in. "Rangers." Toad nodded. Roach kept his eyes on the American, trying to keep them from closing. He inserted a syringe into the line.

"Tell me where you are Roach." Doc looked down at Roach with a fleeting glance, before going back to the bullet wound. "No exit wound."

"Delta Eagle." He felt the pain ebbing away as whatever Toad had slid into the IV line had taken effect. Probably anesthesia. Doc had said there was no exit wound; the bullet was still lodged in his abdomen.

"Toad, Doc can handle Roach. Help me work on Ghost." The gruff voice belonging to Archer permeated the room, causing Toad to look up. His gaze caught Doc's, and the blonde nodded once. Toad turned, and walked over to the cot Archer had laid the lieutenant on.

Roach watched him walk over to his ally, Toad looking at the injuries with a closer eye. Archer moved away, himself not being a medic. He sat on a free cot, watching the two, a pistol laying across his legs. His gaze then turned to the door, and he became still. A guardian watching over his charges.

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><p>The fogginess lifted suddenly, the dark cloud encasing its victim left slowly, and consciousness flooded the man. Brown eyes blinked a few times, trying to grasp his whereabouts, and recount the last of his memories, which danced just out of his reach.<p>

As they allowed him to catch them, he looked around, forcing the grogginess from his eyes. His gaze first landed on Archer, who hadn't moved from what he could tell. His gaze was still locked on the door, the colt pistol still in his hands, resting on Archer's legs. Doc and Toad were no where to be found in the room.

Ghost was laying still on the cot beside his, the skull balaclava that once wrapped his face in a ghostly, almost spooky presence wasn't found, and it allowed the scarred face to be seen. Roach had only seen his face a few times, all of them being when Ghost had been injured. He never went anywhere without that mask or his sunglasses, and was often pissed off when he woke in a medical bed, his headgear missing.

"Bout time you wake up." The American smiled slightly, taking great care not to laugh. His abdomen had been stitched, he could feel the skin pulled tight. Roach would need to take care not to move, at least not so much until they were removed. He hoped it was soon; Roach hated laying around.

"Good morning to you too, Ghost." His reply was neutral, his groggy mind still not fully comprehending what was going on around him.

"Roach, it's midday. You were out for a while." Ghost turned his scarred face to look at Roach, and he kept from flinching. The many scars that jagged his face were not pretty to look at, and it was only a reminder to the man what he had gone through during the drug cartel in Mexico.

"Did you hear from MacTavish or Price yet?" Ghost shook his head.

"Two days ago, Shepherd betrayed us. Toad said the two were the most wanted men in the US, and the 141 had been disbanded. Shepherd is dead." At the last bit, his voice became soft, almost like he was drifting off, contempt.

"Good." Roach spoke the one word without remorse. That bastard deserved death if he tried to kill the 141 to keep his secrets about starting the war with the Russians by sending Allen undercover, and leaking the information to Makarov, using the Ultranationalist as a pawn in a larger game of chess than he was aware of. "So, what now?"

"You recover, we wait for one of the two captains to contact us, then we go from there." Toad's voice startled Roach, though he hadn't showed it. He walked over to Roach, looking over the wounded man quickly. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." Toad laughed lightly, though the mirth wasn't joyous.

"You look like it, Mate." A glare was cast into Ghost's direction once more for mocking Roach's appearance when he wasn't much better off. A reply was bit back in Roach's mouth. To insult the man's looks would be cruel, suicidal even. Ghost could take it as an insult meant also for his face, and that would not go over well. There was one rule about Ghost, and that was never mention his past, or even hint at it. He got pissed off when one did.

He would get Ghost back for the insult later. Pushing himself up into a sitting position caused Roach to flinch, and he bit back a sharp cry as his body protested. "Then don't move." The voice spoken came from Toad, and the American was at his side, checking the stitches. "Good. You didn't tear them." His gaze turned on Roach. "Be careful, Roach. You know if those stitches tear, you'll be off your feet longer. Keep movement to a minimum." Dark brown eyes watched Toad, narrowed slightly in agitation.

Satisfied his patient wouldn't do something like that again, Toad walked away, exiting the room. Roach turned to look at Archer. "Have you moved at all from that position?"

The lead sniper didn't reply, not right away. "Three years ago, I watched an ally get left behind to allow his team a way out. I will not fail another of my teammates again, Roach."

Roach knew what he was talking about. Every soldier here, with the exception of Doc, had been there when it happened. Operation Kingfish. The hunt for Makarov, though none of them had known it at the time. Shepherd kept his identity a secret, only revealing it to Soap after Price had been captured when Soap was injured in their evac. Price stayed behind, buying the others time. Archer and Toad had provided covering fire for him from their sniper positions, but when there was no chance of a rescue for their captain, retreated to their exfil point, to be picked up later by the chopper.

"It wasn't your fault, Archer." At Ghost's slightly hoarse voice, both Archer and Roach turned to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, some of his scars hidden. Roach looked away.

"Maybe not, but I won't let our enemies storm into this safe house while we are recovering." The room grew silent. Archer was right. The two relied on the three uninjured men for their protection. If the enemy walked in, the two wouldn't stand a chance if their guardians failed.

"Ghost, this is Price. Do you read me?" The sound of Price's voice over the comms startled the three, and Archer moved to answer him.

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><p><strong>The reason the story skipped from Roach watching Archer to him waking up is because you aren't aware of the anesthesia taking effect. You are there waiting for it to take effect one minute, then the next you wake up. You don't feel drowsy, but are knocked out quite quickly. This chapter isn't up to my standards, but your kind reviews made me want to bust another chapter out quickly. Thanks for being dedicated readers.<strong>

**If you haven't yet, I would recommend you watch Operation Kingfish on Youtube. It is how Captain Price was captured, and the first time you hear about Makarov, code name Kingfish. It is done well, and the characters are done nicely.**

**Seunguine Nosferatu:**** I will use it as a guide, and stick to the transcript pretty well. There will be a few more filler chapters before that comes though. I hope to continue this story to after Makarov is defeated though as well. Hopefully, the story will get that far.**

**Hyarou:**** I hope Archer and Toad are meeting your expectations so far. I don't know how to make them more significant members to the plot, so please let me know how I'm doing so far. This goes to everyone who wants to give me ideas.**

**Wandr:**** Don't worry, there is nothing that would be a spoiler for me. You do have a point. I think I didn't make the wounds in the first chapter realistic enough, though thanks for enjoying the story anyway. Hope this chapter was better. As anyone can probably tell, I'm new to this sort of stuff, and have no medical knowledge what-so-ever. Except for being scoped myself, so I know what anesthesia is like. Let me know how I can improve it. Goes for everyone**

**MAJOR MW3 SPOILER ALERT:**** I don't know if I should let Soap die when it comes to that point or not yet. I'm leaning towards keeping him alive, but I'm not sure. Give me your opinions please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters mentioned (except the names you don't recognize) nor will there be a time when I do. They belong to Infinity Ward. No profit is made from this fiction piece. Dialogue pieces near the beginning that seem familiar to you were taken directly from the mission Endgame.**

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><p>Pain. That was the first thing his tired and abused body realized upon the waking of the man. There was a heavy pressure across his two legs. Dark brown eyes glanced down, straining in their sockets in an attempt not to move his head. Shepherd's foot was lying across his own.<p>

Reaching down, he grabbed the dead weight, and tossed it aside in disgust. Captain Price flipped onto his side, wet clothing gathering the sand he had been laying on. He looked up, remembering the partner he had come here with. Soap.

He was wounded, staring at him, though the electric blue eyes didn't seem to be focused. "Soap!" He forced himself onto his feet, reaching a hand towards his wounded partner, his best friend. Soap had rescued him from that hell hole, and though he hadn't admitted it, life had been harsh and torturous there. He wouldn't tell the Scottish man how thankful he was, nor about the life he felt he owed him.

He couldn't just let him die, not if he was going to live.

"Soap." Tired legs gave out, but it didn't matter. He had reached his destination. Leaning over the injured man, he noticed Soap had fallen unconscious once more. Reaching into his pack, he grabbed the few medical supplies he had. It wasn't enough to properly treat him. What he had was only good enough for a patch job.

He hated to admit it, but without help, Soap would die. Nikolai had offered to pick them up, but he had told him not to bother. He felt it was a suicide mission, that he and Soap would kill Shepherd, but at the cost of their lives.

He hadn't been thinking, hell bent on revenge. He had condemned Soap to death, and it tore at him.

After he peeled the ragged clothing away from the chest wound, he wrapped layer upon layer of white gauze around Soap's chest, pulling it tight. It was sealed in place with a bit of tape.

The sound of helicopter blades cut through the sound of the waterfall near bye. It was unmistakable. Shadow Company were coming to finish what their dead commander had started. His head turned towards the Pave Low that landed, and he watched as a lone man stepped out.

Soap had regained consciousness, but he still seemed to be dazed. "It'll hold for now. Come on get up." The injured captain grabbed his subordinate by the arm, swinging it around his own. Soap's unsupported weight weighed down the man. Usually it wouldn't have phased him at all, he had carried Macmillan on his back when he had been injured. But that was twenty years ago, and he was injured now.

"I thought I told you this was a one way trip." He wasn't ungrateful to see the man, but Price didn't like his orders being disobeyed. He had always been a strict commander, expecting loyalty from those under his command.

Soap fell, his right hand shooting out to steady himself. As Soap fumbled, the weight carried down Price as well, and Nikolai came over, grabbing onto his other shoulder, steadying Soap as he did so, allowing Price to do so as well. "Nikolai, we've gotta get Soap out of here."

"Da. I know a place." His Russian accent was easy to place. The three loaded into the pave low, and Nikolai lifted it from the ground, the blades easily pushing the dust swirling around them from its path.

"I need to contact Ghost. Do you have a radio or phone?" In response, Nikolai used his foot to slide a communication device towards Price. "Here. It's what I used to contact you. The 141 is the second frequency."

Price nodded, and flipped the device on, switching it to the indicated frequency. "Ghost, this is Price. Do you read me?"

It wasn't Ghost who answered, but the voice wasn't unfamiliar to him. "This is Archer. Roach and Ghost are listening."

"Good. Soap is in critical condition, but he should make it. What's your condition?"

Archer looked back at the two before looking back towards the device. "Ghost and Roach will make a recovery. Is Shepherd dead?"

"Yes."

"Good." The words spoken were bitter, and did not belong to Archer. Instead, the deep rumbling tune was that of Ghost, who had relaxed back onto his bed at the news.

Price had recognized the man's voice as well. "Where are you?"

"Price, did Captain MacTavish ever mention Operation Strikeforce?"

"Only in commentary, nothing I could use."

"Tell the old bloke to fix that. I do not trust giving the location over an unsecured line." There was a bark of laughter from Price.

"Soap will not appreciate being called old." Price looked at the man in question, who stared at Price at the mention of Soap and old in the same sentence. He didn't look too happy, and the puffy face he was getting did not help the look. "Ghost, a little piece of advice. When Soap gets better, I'd avoid him. He didn't take a very good liking to being called an old bloke."

It was Ghost's turn to laugh, but it was cut off at the sharp gasp of pain from him. "You don't need to worry about me, Sir."

"Stay safe up there, Mate. Soap and I will regroup when we can. If he remembers the location." As Price disconnected from the device, he turned to look at his friend, who was almost glaring at the seat in front of him. Price watched him for a bit as his eyes started to droop, and he fell asleep. Sighing, the captain pulled his Boonie hat over his eyes. They had a long journey, and he was sure Nikolai would wake them up if they ran into trouble or they were close to their destination.

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><p><strong>I'm not proud of it, especially the dialogue at the end, but trying to beat my muse like a dead horse, and it does not prove to give results. It just creates for a brain that wants to work on anything <strong>_**but**_** this story, so unless you are trying for this result, I would not recommend it. I hope the dialogue didn't drag, because to me it seemed it did. That's why I added the part about Soap being old, though he's probably not much older than Ghost.**

**Well, there is a mention of how Ghost and Archer know about Delta Eagle. But now Soap's in on it. And it was called Operation Strikeforce. The reason only bits and pieces are being exposed is in part because I like keeping you guys in the dark, but also in part because I haven't figured out the whole thing yet.**

**And the people have spoken! I will not kill off Soap. So I wasn't the only one who wanted to throw the controller through the TV and scream profanity at the world... Any who, back on topic. I will follow MW3 closely, and find ways to add the characters I need into it. Find a way to keep Soap alive as well. Then figure out how he affects the missions as well. You see what you're making me do!**

**Back on topic. Please leave reviews. Constructive criticism is also greatly appreciated as well. Also, ideas are welcome. Because I have a few months to fill between Soap almost dying, and the first mission with Soap, Price, and Yuri, who will also be worked into the story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty, nor any of its content. It belongs to Infinity Ward. Roach, Ghost, Toad, and Archer are characters that were in COD:MW2, and have returned from the dead! Not really, it's a plot device, but you better already know that. If not, then well, what the hell are you doing in Chapter 4? Any who, the only things/ideas/people that belong to me are Operation Strikeforce (Delta Eagle along with that), the whole plot idea (well except those stated otherwise), and Doc. Other characters who appear or are mentioned belong to their respective video games.**

**I hate that thing. It takes up a whole paragraph to disclaim people who do not belong to you. It would be a lot quicker to say what actually _is_ mine, but I'm not sure that would work. Eh, it makes the chapter look longer, and you guys never really read it anyways.**

**Jadeah**** I feel so bad now... I've ruined MW3 for you! Please don't be mad at me... but in the future, I'll take more care to post when spoilers for the game are posted, and make a note for the reviews. Sorry about ruining the most emotional part of the game.**

**wandr**** Yes, I know my chapters are very short. Right now, I'm writing a series of one shots for Transformers (also not mine) and am trying to push over 2000 words. I probably should have started with the first one though, and not the second (well now third) to last... but yeah, I'll try to make the chapters longer, but no promises. I'm struggling with muse as it is.**

**Airman0007**** You and many others (including me). Don't worry, I got it all planned out. Ghost and well, not going to give it away. Nice try.**

**Nobody's Puppet**** Wow, your words really spoke to me. Thanks. But it's not creepy. I didn't even tear up at my Grandpa's funeral, and I cried at Soap's death. Now ****_that_ is creepy...**

**Lieutenant Jayden**** Thanks. It's always great for readers to reassure the writer of their story's quality. I would like to be unbiased in that, and make an equal appearance for the whole thing. **

**Hyarou**** Haha, no, he's not the Ancient Bloke. That's MacMillian (also not mine... what's up with all these characters demanding an appearance! I hate disclaiming them all!) Price would be the... older bloke. It's a good idea, and there are possible ways of keeping it from the plot line, but if that does happen, then (SPOILER ALERT) Soap will die because his team mates won't be there to save him.**

**The Master Assassin**** Should I be happy or sad? LOL, I know, I need to make them longer. I like the idea, and I'll see about working it into the story. It's a really good idea. DON'T TELL ME THAT! I feel sorry for you though, being able to 'feel' him dying. That has to be the worse experience for anyone, in real life I mean. People are just plain old cruel.**

**Fenlon**** So did I! He will LIVE!**

**Sussi**** Haha, as you can probably see, you are not the only one. He won't die, I'll make Yuri die in his place if I have to (but if I do that, I feel some readers will be mad at me)**

**Punkimunki**** I agree. Soap makes the 141. Ghost helps as well.**

**FirstNobody**** Interesting. Everyone is telling me to keep him alive, yet you're telling me to keep ****him alive just to kill him off later. Does anyone else get the idea of (DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOIL ALERT:) Dumbledore raising Harry up just to have him die to kill Voldemort? Damn, now I kinda wanna do that... you bring out the evil side of me, and it scares me...**

**xXthecatalystXx**** Well you're not the only one**

**he who is awesome**** He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Run for your lives everyone! 0.o What the hell is wrong with me! Anyway, yes, that indeed is the trick. It kinda sounds like you would rather Roach and Ghost die though... I'm just probably getting the wrong impression.**

**jtburn**** I hadn't even thought of that. What a wonderful idea. Well, too late with Shepherd. I'll see what I can do. It'll give me some plot ideas after Makarov is killed...**

**Shadowman ****747 You changed your name... I kinda like the other one better. Numbers just get to me, you know? Sounds like an army group. 747... 141...**

**anon**** I will try to make this into a long story, and hopefully it will be. At least 18 chapters, but most likely more. Let's hope I don't break this off before hand though. If I do, then anyone is allowed, even encouraged to shoot me a PM and bug me until I get another chapter posted.**

**Damn, this note better be shorter than the story... On another note, I got a new laptop, and so am sorry for the delay in the story. As stated earlier, I started writing a series of one shots for Transformers, and got sidetracked. I'm sorry for the delay, and had best drag myself away from it to work on this, though how that works out...**

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><p><em>Italics indicate a flashback.<em>

**August 17th – Several hours later**

**Himachal Pradesh, India**

**Captain "Soap" MacTavish, Task Force 141, Disavowed**

He was sore, his chest on fire. A groan escaped his lips even before his eyes were open. The material he was laying on was soft, unlike the copter he had rode on. Somehow, he had managed to fall asleep, or slip unconscious on it. Probably the latter. He could hear the wheels squeeking in protest at the speed the stretcher was moving at, and the feeling of moving caught his attention.

"Get him inside!" The sound of the british accent was the last thing he heard before his eyes closed, and he blacked once more.

_A man with a cigar was sitting across from him, and the sounds of helicopter blades cut through the stormy night. His head turned, and he saw a ship riding against the rising waves, water falling all around them. The man with the cigar across from him pulled down his mask, and he did the same._

_His vision faded, replaced by another. That same man was back, though his cigar wasn't in his hands. "What the hell kind of name is Soap, eh?" Soap?_

A deep russian voice broke through his visions. "The safe house is up ahead!" Safe house? Why would they need to be in a safe house? What made this house so special that it was called 'safe'? Did it have high tech security or something?

"Keep moving!" There was that voice he had heard again. Why did both sound so familiar?

_He was lying on the road, and could almost feel the hard dirt biting into his back, as the feeling of numbness spread through him slowly. That man in the boonie hat he kept on seeing was also on the ground, a pistol in his hands. The man slid the pistol towards him, and he grabbed it. The M1911 was pointed at a man with only one arm, and the sound of a shot rang in his head._

"Out of the bloody way! Get a doctor!" Who the hell was this man? Why did he sound so familiar? Why, despite the pain he was in, did he feel safe around him? He slipped under again.

_He could almost feel the water splashing on him, the sound of the water falling from the great height. That man he kept on seeing was waving his hand frantically, yelling above the waterfall. "Back up! Back up!" But he never got the chance to back up, and felt himself plunge over the edge._

"Keep pressure on that wound!"

"I'm trying! Hang in there, my friend." Electric blue eyes opened to see the man with the russian accent looking at him as he and the man in the boonie hat ran with the stretcher he was on. Friend? So was that the reason he felt safe with them? He knew them? They did seem familiar to him, that was probably why.

_He could almost feel the pain of the knife as he gripped it, pulling it from his chest. It left his hand, burying itself in another man's eye. He had done a lot of killing while incapitated, he briefly thought._

The man in the boonie hat had grabbed onto a man in a long white coat's arm, and pointed almost frantically at him. "He needs help, now!" As he spoke, he led the doctor over towards him. _Price._ The name hit him suddenly. His captain, savior, and friend. His eyes closed, the last thing he heard was his companion counting down.

"We're loosing him! Charging. Three, two, one. Clear!" A sharp burst of pain flashed through him suddenly, and he felt his body lift from the stretcher as the electric shock coursed through his heart in an attempt to keep it going.

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><p><strong>August 17th 9:51:37<strong>

**Taskforce 141- Disavowed**

**Himachal Predesh, India**

**Yuri**

The crack of the defibrillator rang throughout the room as Price, Nikolai, and the doctor tried desperately to keep the scot alive. "Price, we've got vital signs but they're weak. Soap won't last without proper attention."

The captain looked at his wounded friend's face, a grim smile on his face. "He's a hard bastard. Trust me, he'll make it." A brief pause of silence was followed by the wailing of an alarm wired throughout the base, alerting every man, no matter their location, or status, of it.

"We're picking up inbound signatures." Nikolai looked towards the darkly tanned man who had spoken from the door, nodding. The man dipped his head before he disappeared from the door frame.

"We've got company."

"It's Makarov. He's trying up loose ends." Price looked at Nikolai. "Who's your best man?"

"Yuri. Ex Spetsnaz. Only man I know who hates Makarov more than you."

Price nodded. "Get him. They'll use the ridgeline for cover and fly in from the south." The captain left Soap's side, walking towards the balcony that looked over the courtyard.

"How do you know?"

Price looked back at Nikolai as he spoke. "It's what I'd do.

Price watched as the Loyalists ran into the balcony, two of them shouting orders back and forth. "Attack choppers coming from over the ridge!"

"How many of them?"

"Three Havocs and four- no, five Mi-17s! Commandos fast roping down!"

"Get a fire team on the roof!" Price's attention was drawn away from the men outside as Nikolai called over a man who had entered the room a second ago.

"Yuri! Yuri, over here!"

Yuri looked down at the man who had a bandage wrapped tightly around his waist, his hand wrapped around Yuri's shirt. A cough wracked his body, and his hand fell away. The British accent was clear as he spoke. "We need to get Soap to the chopper!" Yuri realized the man on the table must have been Soap. A low flapping sound was heard, and Yuri looked in the direction he thought the sound came from.

"What was that?" The sound grew louder. Both Nikolai and Yuri turned at the same time towards the far wall, a helicopter crashing through it, causing everyone in the room to loose their footing.

"Is everyone alright?" Price hadn't yet regained his footing as he called to the others. Yuri rolled over to avoid the helicopter as it crashed through the balcony, falling out of the room. He turned to face Nikolai, who had regained his footing, and was making hand gestures towards the other man in the room.

"Do whatever this man says!" Yuri nodded, pulling out his AK47 he had hanging off his shoulder just moments ago.

"Yuri, take a position on the balcony! We need to buy the doctor some time! Keep your eyes on the courtyard." He hadn't needed to be told twice. Yuri was at one point, Makarov's most trusted ally, and as such, knew where great vantage points were, and where good tactical spots were. He moved to the balcony, going prove as he lay at the edge of it, the stock against his shoulder as he aimed using the red dot sight. He watched as one of the soldiers in the courtyard fired a missile at one of the choppers from the Ultranationalists. Instinct had him bringing up his hand to shield his face as the gate to the courtyard exploded, followed by many enemy soldiers flooding through the destroyed gate, firing at the Loyalists as they did so. The loyalists fired back, downing the enemies, and getting downed themselves. It was another day at war, and casualties were going to happen.

"They've breached the courtyard! Take them down!" Even as the British man spoke, the muzzle of his gun lit up as bullets fired from its barrel, embedding themselves into the enemies who had run into the courtyard seconds before. Yuri's gun did the same, fired in bursts as they felled men he had once called allies. "We need to hold them off until we can move Soap!" More enemies fell as bullets landed in their legs, arms, chest, stomachs, heads, or necks, dead or screaming in pain as they were wounded. Smoke quickly filled the courtyard, and Yuri finished his round in the courtyard, spraying the bullets in the general direction of the gate, careful to avoid hitting his own allies by accident.

The man looked up as he reloaded his gun when he heard the distinct sound of a mini gun loaded up, shots firing into the building he was in. He ducked his head in instinct, looking up cautiously when the sound stopped, the helicopter flying away. "The doctor's down! Give him the shot! Yuri, we need your help! Yuri, get over here!" He crawled back into the building, pushing himself up onto his knees as he did so, before standing and running towards Nikolai and Soap. Grabbing the syringe, he looked at Soap, who was staring at him. Yuri punched a hole into Soap, squirting the adrenaline into his system. His eyes lit up, before they dimmed and he fell unconscious.

From the corner of his eye, Yuri could see Price moving towards the door, arriving there just as it broke down, allowing entrance into the room. Price smacked the man who entered in the face with his elbow, then pulled out a pistol from his side, his hand pulling the trigger. The bullet dug deep into the enemy's skull, killing him instantly. "They're on the roof. We've got to get Soap to the chopper!"

"I've got him!" Price gave a curt nod to Nikolai, then motioned to him.

"Right. Yuri, you're with me!" Yuri nodded, following Price from the room. Enemies roped down from the roof, but Price and Yuri made quick work of them. He could feel the rebound of his gun as he fired shot after shot at his enemies, the gun pounding against his shoulder, causing his whole body to rebound. "Yuri, over here!" The ex Spatsnaz moved towards his temporary commander, firing at the enemies who blocked the stairs, Price crouched, allowing his comrade to fire over his shoulder. He did. "Down the stairs, move!"

Moving down the stairs and into the courtyard, Yuri looked around him quickly, watching as gunfire lit up the whole courtyard, the sounds of the shots leaving their barrels filling the clearing, though it didn't drown out the shouts and orders as each tried to gain the advantage over the other. Price and Yuri entered the courtyard, guns blazing as they fired at the enemy, as they pushed forward. "Yuri, on me! We've got to get through the courtyard!"

"Roger that."

"We're pinned down in the street! We need reinforcements!" Yuri fired at the final enemy in the courtyard, ducking as he felt the bullets coming towards him.

"Nice shot, Mate."

"The courtyard's clear." As the Loyalist spoke, the two reached the gate, ducking as the UAV drone flew above them.

"Russian drone overhead! We're outnumbered and outgunned. We need some heavier firepower!"

"There's a weapon cache at the end of the town. We have a UGV stored there."

"We can use that to get to the chopper. Let's go." Price nodded at Yuri's words, his foot kicking down the gate, entering the street behind Yuri.

"Hold fire, civilians!" Yuri watched as the civilians ran from the fire, screaming as they did so. The ones at the back fell as the Ultranationalists fired their guns at them.

"Bastards. I'll give you something to fire at." From the corner of his eye, he saw Price glance at him before he engaged the hostiles, his bullets joining those of Yuri's as they gave the enemy something else to focus their bullets on. A car crashed on the side of the road, and Yuri looked up just as Price shouted.

"Watch the balconies! Nikolai, hang back! Protect Soap! Doorway, right side!" Yuri paused, reloaded his AK, then turned towards the doorway Price had mentioned, and fired at the enemy who screamed at him, running up with his weapon raised over his head. As the enemy came at him, he kicked him back with his foot, and fired at him until he didn't move. He ran to catch up to Price, who had continued to push forward.

"Keep moving down the street! We've got to get Soap out of here!" He seemed very fond of the wounded man. Yuri glanced back as more footfall was heard, seeing the rest of their allies moving up with them, their guns blazing, downing Makarov's men. As the helicopter took off, its men it had left behind fell victim to the hail of bullets that met them as the Loyalists turned the corner, Price and Yuri in the lead. "The drone's doing another pass!"

Yuri didn't watch what the others did, but kicked open the door closest to him, and forced his way inside as the missiles landed in the street, creating a loud noise, drowning out the sound of the others as they shouted, both orders and in pain. Yuri waited until the sound of the drone faded away. Once clear, he moved out into the street. "Everyone OK?"

A grunt was his response as the survivors stepped into the street. "The chopper's this way!" Yuri fell behind Price as he led the way through an alley down on the left.

"The weapons are in the building directly ahead!" Price grunted in reply, and pushed a gate open with the muzzle of his weapon before slipping inside, hand hitting the trigger repeatedly as Makarov's men fired at him. Yuri forced the gate open with his shoulder, his gun firing at the large group ahead of him and Price. They fell victim to the two men.

"There's too many of them between us and the chopper. Nikolai, we need that UGV now!"

"You're almost there! Go through the building!"

"Yuri, this way!" He slipped into the house to his right, Yuri just behind him. A Loyalist used a shotgun to blow the hinges off the frame.

"Breaching!"

As they left the house, Price saw the small house on the left corner. He held up his hand, pausing. Yuri did too. "Hold up. This is it." He moved, his hand twisting the handle of the door. Yuri entered behind Price. "Get inside!"

"The UGV is in a shipping crate directly below you."

The British man didn't react to Nikolai's words, rather lifted the trapdoor leading to the basement, unhooked the flashlight in his belt, and went down. Yuri followed, a flashlight in his own hands. In the basement, a large wooden crate was standing in the center, with other shipping crates pushed into the corners. The letters "526" were on the side of it. "I see it." His companion set down the light, and Yuri moved around to shine the light on the side, allowing Price to see what he was doing as he grabbed the crowbar. The Brit slid the crowbar between the corners of the crate, and forced his weight against it, cracking the large wooden box open, the side falling.

Inside, was a UGV assault drone. "Unmanned ground vehicle. Two centimeter armor plating, mounted mini gun, and grenade launcher. Controls are going to be in Russian. Yuri, you're up." Yuri nodded, turned, and flicked the switch of his flashlight off, before sliding it back into his belt. He sat down at the laptop, and booted it up. SISTEMA AGRUZKI flashed across the screen, and Yuri flexed his fingers as he placed them on the keyboard.

"Nikolai, what's Soap's condition?"

"We've got to get him out of here!"

"Alright. Yuri, clear a path to the chopper. We'll be right behind you." Price moved towards the garage door, lifting it up. Yuri practiced moving the machine, testing the minigun, then the actual movement of the machine before steering it out from the garage. "That mini gun will punch right through walls!"

Yuri fired off the mini gun, using his fingers to control the machine as it moved its turret in response to Yuri's controls from the laptop. He fired it at the soldiers who fired at the UGV, the bullets easily punching through them. They hadn't stood a chance.

"Use your grenade launcher!"

Yuri fired off a round into the large group of enemies, taking out the remaining ones, before moving up. "Clear the path!"

He moved the UGV down the hill, the mini gun destroying some concrete barriers and pillars the enemy were taking cover behind, effectively killing them in the process. He turned the weapon left, firing at the enemies in the large building who stood on one of the many balconies. They fell easily, even when they tried to run for cover. Yuri pulled the weapon onto the roof, and shot at the choppers who shot at the UGV, trying to destroy it. "Take out those choppers!" He fired at the choppers, the minigun destroying a Hind, and four grenade launcher missiles destroying the Mi-17s who had been firing at him. He moved on to the enemy along the ridge. "Yuri, we're moving up! Keep them pinned down."

Yuri moved the UGV to the edge of the ridge, stopping it when he had a good overlook of Nikolai's Little Bird along with the area surrounding it. Yuri hit the controls, turning the mini gun on the foot soldiers who closed in on the Little Bird. He turned the UGV towards the Hind, firing two missiles at it before it could shoot down its enemies. He fired the UGV at the enemies who showed up, keeping the path clear for Price as he showed up, covering Nikolai as he loaded Soap into the chopper. "We're at the chopper! Loading Soap in now!"

"He's not looking good." A warning appeared on the laptop's screen, flashing brightly.

"Drone inbound!" The drone they had seen earlier appeared, and fired a missile that destroyed the UGV. The vehicle flipped over, its camera catching the drone as it flew past. Yuri cursed in Russian. "Yuri, run to the chopper! Move! Go! Go!"

The chair screeched as he forcibly pushed himself away from the laptop, the chair falling over just as Yuri stood up, the leg scraping against his leg, falling to the ground with a clatter. He ran from the garage, his weapons forgotten as he ran quickly towards the Little Bird. He remembered the path from the UGV, and the damage it had caused made it easy to determine if he was going the right way. Bullets sprayed after him as the drone fired at him. He jumped over a tree the drone had uprooted, somehow managing to keep his footing as he dashed down the hill, turned left, then ran onto the rooftop. "Look out!"

Price's warning was too late. He had already stepped onto the roof., he falling through it as the drone's missile tore it apart. He fell, glimpsing the drone flying past. Yuri slid down the hillside, forcing his body to the left to dodge the avalanche of concrete and debris chasing ruthlessly after him. Yuri fell into the river, hearing the sounds of helicopter blades slicing through the air overhead before his head slipped under the churning, freezing cold water.

He started panicking, clawing at the water, trying to reach the surface, his gear pulling him down. Kicking with his feet, his hands unclasped the belt around himself, and he swam to the surface, gasping air into his lungs before the water pulled him under again by its sheer force of the moving water. He struck his hand out blindly, then his other. They felt a slimy surface, and Yuri quickly clung onto it. His body whipped backwards, straining his arms as he held onto the tree root, pulling his head above the water. He crawled onto the riverbed, his adrenaline rush wearing off. His head fell to the floor, his vision fading to a whitish color, the last thing he saw was the Little Bird above him, voices yelling over the communication device still working, clasped onto the side of his uniform. "There he is! There's Yuri!"

"Good. We'll need him. We're going after Makarov."

"Who the bloody hell's Yuri?" Price glanced at Soap briefly, then turned to look out on the exhausted man lying on the side of the river. "Nikolai, can you land the bird?"

"Da. Already on it." The chopper landed, its blades forcing the trees to the sides, winds slicing at them as Price jumped out. He moved over to Yuri, and grabbed him by the shoulders, slinging a shoulder over his own, dragging the dead weight over to the chopper. Soap reached over, his hand wrapping around Yuri's collar, helping Price pull him into the chopper. After the two, mainly Price, had pulled the ex Spetsnaz into the chopper and onto a seat, Price sat beside Soap. The chopper lifted into the air.

"Soap?" A grunt told Price he was listening. "Delta Eagle. Where is it?"

Soap closed his eyes. "Lake Tigris. Close to the Van Lake." Price nodded, and pulled his boonie hat over his eyes, his exhaustion catching up to him.

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><p><strong>Damn. Well, there's your chapter. Hope you like. It's about 3,600 words, excluding my long author notes. Next chapters are going to be filler chapters. See how well Yuri gets along with the others, and what happens to Soap while he's healing? How are Ghost, Roach, Toad, Archer, Doc, and any other 141 members doing right now? Stay tuned to find out.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty, nor any of its content. It belongs to Infinity Ward. Roach, Ghost, Toad, and Archer are characters that were in COD:MW2, and have returned from the dead! Not really, it's a plot device, but you better already know that. If not, then well, what the hell are you doing in Chapter 4? Any who, the only things/ideas/people that belong to me are Operation Strikeforce (Delta Eagle along with that), the whole plot idea (well except those stated otherwise), and Doc. Other characters who appear or are mentioned belong to their respective video games.**

**Jadeah: Phew, good. I remember going on Wiki to read what happened in the game. Ruined the whole damn thing for me. Did the same with MW2... and Inheritance... and Son of Neptune... and... a bunch of others I can't remember... Thanks for the kind words.**

**Lieutenant Jayden: That was actually in the game, at the very end. There are only a few words that were not said in the mission, mostly those words spoken by Yuri. I'll have to work in more dialog for him.**

**Hyarou: It did? Well that's a good thing... I think. And don't worry, the others haven't been forgotten.**

**Thanks for the reviews you three. To anyone else who managed to get this far, hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry for it's shortness though.**

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><p><strong>August 17th, 1:03:42<strong>

**Task Force 141- Disavowed**

**Toad**

Toad walked into the medical room, eyes traveling to Archer, who still sat there, unmoving, still the statue he had been since they arrived. A guardian angel watching over his beloved people relentlessly, just daring danger to attack. His fingers rested on the barrel of the small weapon, ready to snatch it up and fire if needed. The sniper's eyes briefly darted to Toad as he entered, then returned back to the door behind the American.

"Come on, Archer. Shift's over." Toad walked over to his commander, standing in front of him. "Get some sleep, drink some coffee, just get out of here." Archer hadn't moved. Toad sighed, reached between the man's fingers, and pried the gun out of the British man's grasp. They didn't cling to the weapon, allowing Toad to pull it away with ease. "Get up and get some rest, Archer." The man stood slowly, glancing at Toad. With a curt nod, he finally left. Toad watched his commander's back as he left, shaking his head when Archer disappeared.

"He's going to be stiff. Can't see how he can stay so still so long." Toad turned towards Roach who had spoken, his brown eyes watching Toad after watching the exchange between the partners.

The American sniper laughed, turning so he was facing Roach. His eyes glanced over to Ghost, noting the man was also awake, staring at the ceiling once more. "That's because he doesn't have the need to be moving like you do, Mate." Toad laughed as Ghost finished speaking, walking over to the pair.

Roach growled. "Why must you insult me, Ghost?"

Ghost shrugged. "Because you make it so easy to." Ghost, Roach, and Toad all laughed.

"How do the both of you feel?" Two grunts was the reply he got. Toad nodded. Grunts from these two were always a good sign. They were healing well, and the two joking around, especially Ghost with Roach, was always a good sign. "Good. You should make a full recovery."

"Archer. Archer, this is Price. Come in, Archer." Toad glanced at the two Brits. Their joking had ceased at the sound of their captain, and both had regained the aura of seriousness as Toad moved towards the communication device, hitting the button when he reached it.

"Captain Price, this is Toad. Archer has just been dismissed."

"We are inbound to your location. ETA ten minutes." It didn't matter to Price who answered the call, as long as they knew not to shoot the Little Bird coming to their location. They already had one injured man who couldn't walk. Another wouldn't survive, Price was sure. And the 141 rarely missed. They shot to kill, and they were the best.

Toad glanced over to his two comrades, who were listening in on the call, both staring at Toad. "Roger that. How's Captain MacTavish?"

"He's stabilized, but our doctor died before he could patch him up completely."

"Alright. Bring him in. I'll have Doc take a look at him when you arrive."

"Thanks, Mate. How are Roach and Ghost?"

"They'll make a full recovery."

"Good. See you soon, Mate." Toad nodded slightly, before turning back towards Roach and Ghost as Price hung up.

The two were staring back at him, watching him. Toad studied the two with a critical eye, his gaze sweeping their injuries, studying them with a scrutinizing gaze, gauging the time it would take to heal such wounds. "Roach, you should be up on your feet in about three weeks. Ghost, your injuries weren't as bad. I'd estimate a week." Ghost nodded, while Roach groaned. Toad walked towards the door, turning around to look to the two as he spoke. "I need to alert Archer to Price's arrival. I'll send in Doc, and we'll prepare the men for the arrival."

"Three weeks! What the hell am I supposed to do in that time!" Ghost turned to face his comrade, dark green eyes studying the man carefully. He shook his head. So impatient.

"I could knock you out if you'd like."

"Har har." Ghost was fond of Roach, he treated him like a younger brother. The youngest on the team and the least experienced, Ghost had taken to watching his back. When Roach was in trouble, it was Ghost who was there, firing shots and running towards him to protect him. They made a great team, and the two understood each other.

Doc walked in, and looked at the two, watching as they joked with each other. Shaking his head, he walked over to the cot Archer had vacated when he left, and sat down, eyes trained on the door as he stood his watch.

"Ghost? How do you and Archer know about Delta Eagle?"

Ghost glanced at Roach before turning his eyes towards the ceiling. "Captain MacTavish was our field commander during that mission. When he and Price were reassigned from the SAS, MacTavish wasn't placed in the Taskforce at first. That came later. It was the first time we met. MacTavish, Archer, and I were hand chosen from different units, and we went undercover to stop a terrorist working against Great Britian. They were hiding out in Turkey." He paused. "Operation: Strikeforce it was called. We were to go in, gather intel, and get out. All went well. We got in, grabbed the intel, and found out where the hideout for codename: Strikeforce was. It was Archer who found the abandoned building, and we turned it into our hideout as we waited for new orders.

"When they came, we went out and killed Strikeforce. Fucker gave us a run for our money, but in the end, we managed to gun him down. Almost took Archer with him though." He turned to look at Roach. "That was the first time Captain MacTavish led. Told us he was following his captain's example." Ghost smiled, though the scars made it look gruesome. "About a year later, the three of us joined the Task Force, and we met MacTavish's captain."

"Operation: Kingfish." Ghost nodded. "Wasn't that a hell hole." Another nod from him. Both heads turned towards the door as chatter filled their ears.

"Doc, help us." The man got up and moved towards Nikolai and Price, who had Soap propped against their shoulders, supporting his weight as they led him to the cot Doc had just vacated. The three lowered the injured captain into the bed, and Doc set to work.

"Clear out. I need space to work." Ghost watched the two as they didn't move, hovering over Doc as he tried to work on Soap.

Ghost laughed. "Best do as the doc says. He gets testy when his orders are disobeyed."

The two looked over towards Roach and Ghost. Nikolai smiled, Price stoic as ever. The two moved over to the injured British men, sitting in the chairs beside the beds. "What happened at the safe house?"

"It was a bloody ambush. We lost most of our men within the first few minutes to mortar fire. Scarecrow, Ozone, Roach, Archer, Toad, and I were the only ones who made it through. At the safe house, we downloaded the intel in their computer, and took up defensive positions around the house to defend the download. Scarecrow died during that encounter. Ozone, Roach, and I made it out and headed towards the extraction point, tailed by Makarov's men. Ozone was killed by the mortar that hit Roach. I dragged him towards the exfil point, while Roach covered the both of us." Ghost paused, his eyes closing.

Roach glanced at Ghost, watching his friend's face carefully. When Ghost hadn't continued, Roach took over. "Ghost kept dragging me, and when the plane landed, he hoisted me onto his shoulders. Shepherd came and helped me towards the aircraft, but shot me in the abdomen. He then shot Ghost. Four Shadow Company soldiers grabbed us and disposed of our 'bodies' into a small crater. Shepherd then ordered a soldier to burn us. I don't know how he did it, but somehow, Ghost managed to drag us both from the fiery tomb. He threw his body weight onto me, which by the way, cracked my ribs." He shot a glare at Ghost, who merely shrugged. "Then Archer and Toad appeared, put out the rest of the flames, treated the wounds they could, then drove us here, where Doc and Toad continued the patch."

Ghost looked at Price. "Your call came in time, Mate."

"We cut it close, didn't we?"

Ghost nodded. "What happened to Soap?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to the injured Scottish man lying still on the cot as Doc bent over him, surgically patching up the wounds the previous doctor hadn't managed to get to before he was killed. "Shepherd. Stabbed him with a knife." He turned to look back at the two. "Shepherd was going to execute him, but the two of us got into an extended fist fight. Soap crawled towards the gun, while he still had that knife in his chest. Shepherd kicked him unconscious. I woke up to find Shepherd dead with a knife in his eye, and Soap bleeding out around me. The bloody stubborn bastard pulled the knife from his own chest to kill Shepherd, saving my life in the process. That's what, two now, that I owe him?"

"Don't give Ghost any ideas, Price." Roach's voice held a mock growl to it as he spoke, his gaze not leaving the ceiling.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mate." Price looked over at Ghost, his eyes closed, the scarring on the side of his face giving him a grotesque look. Despite the overall appearance of the man, he seemed happy with the idea Price had given him.

"That's two you owe me, Roach. Oh, and you can't forget the one you owe Captain MacTavish."

"Shite." Nikolai, Ghost, and Price all laughed while Roach glared at the three of them.

"If you four don't shut up, I'll tranquilize all your asses." Nikolai looked at Ghost.

"He serious?" Ghost nodded, and the four fell into a silence while Doc worked. They watched him as his blood splattered hands worked, digging into Soap's stomach to fix something, holding onto something while he tried to work around it. He cursed a few times.

Finally, he picked up the needle and thick thread, pulling Soap's flesh taunt as he stitched the wound closed, held together by the black thread he had chosen. "That should hold. He'll be sore for a few days, and he can't move too much." Doc turned, pointing at Price. "Do not let him move. He moves and tears his stitches, I'm coming after you." With that, Doc left the room.

Price watched him go, and turned to find Nikolai laughing. "He told you, didn't he Friend?"

"He wasn't joking." Ghost's voice held no hint of mirth, but instead, sounded grim.

"Yeah, Doc is one hell of a medic, but his social skills need some serious work." Roach sighed as he finished speaking, sinking deeper into the pillows propped under his head. "He doesn't kid around."

"So I'm on babysitting duty till he's allowed to move." Price looked around at the grim faces of the others, looking, hoping for a sign the good doctor was joking. He wasn't. "Bollocks."

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><p><strong>Well, there you go. Hope it wasn't too short for you. Please leave a review or PM me if you have any suggestions or constructive criticism for me.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: With the exception of Doc, the characters mentioned in this fic are not mine. The idea for this fic is an original idea of mine, inspired by a hatred of Roach and Ghost being killed the way they were.**

**I am so so sorry for the delay of this chapter. I got a new laptop for Christmas, and so had to go through with transferring my stories over. My laptop got some kind of malicious software in it that said I had a virus, so my dad had to fight it to get rid of that problem, then it said that my computer was infected and my hard drive wouldn't work, so I couldn't do anything there either (also another fake) and so my dad had to wipe everything, and I couldn't write for this story. Then I had to wait to get internet back before I could upload it, and when we did get it back, I decided to scrap the chapter I had written because I didn't like it, so here's the new chapter.**

**August 30th, 16:17:32**

**Task Force 141- Disavowed**

**Archer**

Nothing. Not a single thing was in sight. Dressed in ghillie suits, the two snipers lay still, as they had for the pass two hours. Ever since Yuri had spotted an enemy as he crawled through the grass, Price had those able to take shifts watching for signs of enemies, with orders to shoot to kill. So far, Archer and Toad hadn't spotted anyone. They lay there, binoculars held to their eyes as they watched for any sign of movement.

Still nothing.

"Archer, this is Ghost. Come back to base. Yuri and Nikolai are heading out now." Ghost had been released from the bed two weeks ago, much to Roach's chagrin.

"Roger." He reached over a hand and tapped the American beside him. Toad looked at him, and nodded when Archer pointed behind him. The two did one more sweep to make sure it was clear, and they stood.

"Wait." Toad grabbed Archer's arm as he started to stand, and the man froze. Sinking down to the ground slowly, he reached for the binoculars. Toad reached for the Intervention that lay in front of him. He put the butt of the weapon against his shoulder. "Suppressor in place. Setting Bi-Pod now." Toad reached towards the bottom of the gun and pulled the Bi-Pod down, slamming it into the dirt the weapon sat upon. Shoving his weight against the weapon, he pushed it into the ground as far as it would go, satisfied only when it wouldn't budge even an inch. "Weapon set."

Nodding slightly, Archer pulled his eyes to the binoculars, looking through the tool. "Two o'clock. Five meters out." Archer removed the binoculars from his face. Using his left hand, he gathered dirt into his hands. The dirt was released from his hands, blowing very slightly before falling. "Wind direction unsubstantial, no factor needed." He paused once more. "Land flat." The binoculars were at his eyes once more. "One shot, one kill." Beside him, he heard the silenced bullet as it was fired. His eyes trained on the enemy, he watched as the guy paused from his meandering walk, frozen as if in horror. The man slunk forward, landing on his knees. His hand reached out to catch his weight, and he stayed like that for a second. Then his arm gave out, and he fell to the ground unmoving. "Hit. He's down. Good shot."

* * *

><p><strong>Price<strong>

"Ghost!" Captain Price stood quickly from the chair he sat on so fiercely the brown object fell to the ground with a clatter. A string of curses left the Captain's mouth as he walked from the room, not bothering to replace the chair. "Ghost where the bloody hell are ya?"

The captain walked towards the medical bay. Roach was still forced into the bed, though he would be released in two days. Ghost often visited both him and the man who lay beside him, recovering from a knife that punctured his chest and a lung. Though searching for the man, both Roach and Soap, Soap especially, were recovering from wounds sustained from Shepherd's betrayal. It had hit them all hard, and they had yet to locate Makarov, the only way they would be able to clear their name. Price poked his head into the room, gray eyes sweeping over it quickly. Roach was reading a magazine while Soap slept, and Doc was no where to be seen.

As Captain Price poked his head into the med bay, Roach looked up. "Price?" But Price was already gone. The captain growled to himself. Where was he? Nikolai and Yuri were heading out to take Toad and Archer's place as scouts, and Ghost wasn't out gathering supplies. The captain thought. Ghost and Price had gone out together to scout before they had been relieved by Toad and Archer.

The captain stopped at the room Ghost was sharing with Yuri and, when released, Roach. He opened the door without any indication to his presence. "Ghost." His voice wasn't hushed, but rather loud to wake the man who lay sprawled out on the cot in the far corner. Jerking awake, Ghost looked around quickly, trying to find out what was going on. In that brief state of neither awake nor asleep, his mind was slow in catching up with his body.

"Price?" The man glared at him. "What the hell Mate?" His voice was a growl. "What the bloody hell is so important that you find it fit to wake me an hour after our watch ended?" He paused briefly. "What the hell are you doing up anyways?"

"Did you know Shepherd had a son?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: With the exception of Doc, the characters mentioned in this fic are not mine. The idea for this fic is an original idea of mine, inspired by a hatred of Roach and Ghost being killed the way they were.**

* * *

><p><strong>August 30th, 16:23:17<strong>

**Task Force 141- Disavowed**

**Simon "Ghost" Riley**

_"Price?" The man glared at him. "What the hell Mate?" His voice was a growl. "What the bloody hell is so important that you find it fit to wake me an hour after our watch ended?" He paused briefly. "What the hell are you doing up anyways?"_

_"Did you know Shepherd had a son?"_

Ghost at first seemed puzzled by the question, as if he didn't see the relevance. Then his eyes grew wide. "Captain MacTavish mentioned it in passing, but-"

"This is bad Ghost." To prove his point, he tossed a piece of paper towards Ghost, who caught it easily.

_**American war hero found dead**_

_**A son's resolution**_

_According to US Government spokesman Thomas Jackson, codename 'General Shepherd' was found dead in Afghanistan. "We do not know the full details at this time, but we think it has connection to Captain John Price and Captain John MacTavish, former members of the British Special Air Service. [Price and MacTavish] are considered armed and dangerous, and any sightings are to be reported to [the US Government] immediately."_

_Shepherd left behind a son, whose name will not be released. "Father's death will not be in vain. The men will be held accountable for their actions, and all involved in helping them will be persecuted," Shepherd's son stated._

_Updates of this developing story will be released as information is found._

Ghost looked up at Price after finishing reading the article. "You had better show this to Captain MacTavish, Captain Price. He will know more about it than I." Price nodded before replying.

"I figured. I just wanted to see what you knew, considering Soap is out of action."

Ghost yawned. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to bed." He eyed Price. "I suggest you do the same." As Price turned to leave and Ghost sat on his bed once more, he called out to the male once more. "Oh and Price." Price turned. "Don't wake me again."

Price laughed. "No promises Lieutenant." He left, and Ghost lay back on the cot.

"That man will run us into the ground in his pursuit to kill Makarov."

* * *

><p><strong>Captain John Price<strong>

The man walked towards the medical wing, hoping Soap was awake. Unlike with Ghost, he wouldn't wake up him. If Soap had died out there, Price would have lost it. He would have stormed the remaining members of Shadow Company in a blind rage, wanting nothing more than to take revenge on his friend.

Friend. Price thought about the word. Being in the army changed his view on the word friend. A friend was someone he trusted his back to, but not someone he became close to; they could be taken away at any moment. It was why Shepherd's betrayal hadn't affected him as much as it had Soap. Soap trusted too easily, he took his orders from the man he trusted, the man who had caused Price his freedom trying to catch 'Kingfish'. But it was also because of Shepherd he had been freed. It didn't change his view on the man who had nearly killed him. Nothing would.

He entered the Medical bay to find Soap and Roach both talking to one another. Soap was laughing, his Scottish accent reminding him subtly of MacMillan.

"Don't worry Roach, you'll be out here soon. Then you can get back to active duty."

"Captain Price." Roach turned to face the man who just walked into the room. "What were you in a rush about earlier?"

The man looked at Roach as he spoke, and sat in a chair between the two of them. "We need to talk." His head swung between the two of them as he spoke, causing the two men to look at each other in puzzlement before turning back to their acting commander.

"What?"

"Here." He passed Soap the article Ghost had read earlier, and waited as the man skimmed it quickly, eyes widening slightly at it. Price grabbed it from him then handed it to Roach, who read it and held it in his grasp tightly, knuckles going white, though whether in anger or shock, the old man wasn't sure. "Ghost said you knew of him." Price's gaze rested on Soap, who sighed, and nodded.

"I met him once. Loyal to a fault with his father." Soap paused. "The bloody yank's just as hard headed as his old man."

"Thanks, Soap." Price stood and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Soap watched his captain carefully, waiting for a reply.

"To make a call."

* * *

><p><strong>Yuri<strong>

"How's it looking out there?"

At the words of Ghost, Nikolai grabbed the walkie talkie that sat between the two. Becoming fugitives hadn't done them well with equipment. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Price woke me up. Just answer the question."

"All is clear."

"Roger that." Nikolai sat the device back down and glanced at Yuri, who was looking through the binoculars at the surrounding area, trying to find any signs of the enemy. Nothing was to find, that was obvious. Nikolai sighed, a hand plucking idly at the grass beside him while the other held a pair of binoculars identical to Yuri's at his eyes as he too watched. Nothing moved. It was as if the forest was holding its breath, not allowing it to release. Birds didn't chatter, bugs didn't buzz around the area, and small game stayed hidden, as if trying to avoid the two camouflaged men that hid in the grass, looking for any scouts or a convoy of soldiers.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter and slow delay. This chapter just wouldn't write nicely for me, so I kind of just forced words down on a paper and made sure they sounded okay-ish, that way it could pass in my grade book. The next chapter is already planned out, and will be more of a filler.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: With the exception of Doc, the characters mentioned in this fic are not mine. The idea for this fic is an original idea of mine, inspired by a hatred of Roach and Ghost being killed the way they were.**

* * *

><p>August 30th, 16:23:17<br>Task Force 141- Disavowed  
>Captain John Price<p>

"You know you're taking a huge risk calling me, Son."

"I know Mac. But I need your help. I need you to get me what you can on Shepherd's son."

"John, what's your sit rep?"

"Delta Eagle. Soap's injured badly; Shepherd stabbed him with a knife, and two of our men were burned badly by the bastard." Price paused. "He betrayed us, Mac."

"I got that." Price heard his mentor sigh. "Alright Son, I'm sending a SAS squad led by Sergeant Wallcroft down to your location."

"Wallcroft? He served with Soap and I. It'll be good to see the mate again, so long as he doesn't shoot me first."

MacMillan laughed. "I'll tell him who to expect."

"And I'll tell the watch not to shoot the first SAS soldiers they see." Price paused. "Thanks MacMillan."

"No problem Mate. Take care of your guys. I'll send Wallcroft in three days."

* * *

><p>September 2nd, 09:12:44<br>Task Force 141- Disavowed  
>Sergeant Wallcroft<p>

Why the hell was he doing this? MacMillan had tried to hide Price's betrayal from them, but when Will had approached him about Shepherd's death, he felt betrayed. Why hadn't MacMillan told him? Wallcroft went and contacted other SAS operative leaders, Lovejoy, Barton, Arem, Newcastle, and none of them had been told of Price's betrayal. When he contacted Sandman, the man told him he had indeed known, but hadn't said anything else.

The sergeant turned to the others in his group. "Listen. These men are wanted, so keep your guard up. Don't show open hostility towards them, these are trained killers, and they will go down fighting. Remember, this is the one four one, and these are the best of the best. Watch and listen. Let me do the talking." His eyes swept over the five men who he had with him, his gaze lingering on them long enough to receive a nod in response before it drifted to the next guy.

After he was sure they all understood the tenderness of the situation, Wallcroft turned, and headed towards the location MacMillan had given him. If Price showed even a hint of hostility, he wouldn't hesitate to kill the man who had trained him how to shoot.

Wallcroft looked around a tree, and his hand held up to pause the other members of his squad as two men stood up. "Wallcroft?" A gruff British voice called out. He didn't recognize the man, but his British accent wasn't hard to place. Wallcroft nodded. The man, adorned with red sunglasses glanced up and down the sergeant's body, sizing him up. "I am Ghost, and this is Roach. Come with us." The introduction wasn't a formal one, and the tone the man used was tense. The black haired man, Roach, walked behind Griffin, who brought up the flank of Wallcroft's soldiers.

The group walked back towards a building tucked into the shelter of a large canopy of trees. Ghost glanced back at Wallcroft, who stared at him, watching him carefully for a twitch of his hands that would indicate a drawing of his weapon. Wallcroft would be faster. He was ready. He was waiting.

The group entered the building, and Ghost told them to halt. Rolling his eyes, Wallcroft waited, leaning against the wall as Ghost called out Price's name. Roach stayed with them, and Wallcroft was aware of Roach's eyes on him.

"Bring them to the medical wing!" The reply was the gruff voice he knew of as his former captain. Hearing it again sent a rush through the sergeant, though the emotions that came with it were too many that Wallcroft was unsure exactly what he was feeling. Ghost came back, and they walked on. Wallcroft kept an eye on his surroundings, a battle strategy that had been ingrained into his head, and he had grounded it into the heads of those under his command. A quick glance back told him they were taking his words to heart, and they were each memorizing the layout of the building, at least what they were exposed to.

Wallcroft could tell the building wasn't that big, and neither were the rooms. It was a safe house, and that was all. It was meant to keep those who resided in it safe until they could return to their former lives. It wasn't meant for permanent refuge, but with the way it was set up, it didn't seem as if the surviving members of the Task Force were packing and leaving anytime soon.

Ghost lead them into a room, and they waited. Wallcroft looked at the way the men there were standing. Though their postures seemed nonchalant, the placement of their bodies stated otherwise. Roach went to sit on the bed closest to a man who lay injured, whom Wallcroft recognized as Soap. Nikolai stood beside another man who Wallcroft guessed was Russian. They stood at the side of the room, their gaze watching the six intruders. A blonde haired man stood beside the cot, as if watching over the man who occupied it. Finally two other men stood at the entrance, watching them. Ghost walked in, and stood in the center of the room, having left when the group had entered.

Price walked in, and the men under his command turned their attention towards him as he sat on the chair beside Soap's cot. The captain regarded Wallcroft and the five men under his command, his gaze scrutinizing over each one of them as he had usually done with his own crew. The tension in the room was high, and neither commander seemed ready or willing to break it.

Finally after a long pause, Wallcroft spoke. "Tell me Price, what in bloody hell you were thinking when you killed Shepherd?" At the end of his statement, his voice started to lower in pitch, turning more into a growl than a spoken question. Wallcroft glared at his former captain, daring him to answer. It wasn't that Wallcroft hated the man. It was quite the opposite actually. He felt betrayed. Here was the man who he had shed precious blood for, and who had gone to lead an elite fighting force, only to betray his commander and go underground to hide in cowardice. If Price hadn't a good reason, then Wallcroft would kill him. The Price Wallcroft knew would do neither of those things. The Price he had fought and bled beside was no coward. He would stand in front of a gun and wait for the bullet that would end his life, his eyes glittering with nothing but stubborn defiance. If Price hadn't a good reason, then Wallcroft would put this one who had taken the identity and face of his former friend out of its misery.

Wallcroft's hands tightened on the gun he still held in his hands tighter. He was aware of Ghost, who was beside him tense at Wallcroft's own shifting of position. Finally, Price spoke. "Look around you, Wallcroft." As the four words fell easily from the gruff man's mouth, his hand swung out to indicate the ones under Price's command, resting last on Soap. And Wallcroft did. His gaze rested last on Soap, who was staring back at him. Wallcroft could tell the man was in pain, but a pistol lay beside him. Even injured, the man would go down fighting, if war did break out in this little room.

"What I see, Price, are injured men. Wounds from betraying your commander." His gaze returned to Price, whose hand fell to his side, his eyes seeking Wallcroft's expression, trying to decifer the meaning behind harsh words.

"You useless wanker!" Ghost took a step forward. "We didn't betray Shepherd." He paused as he pushed Wallcroft back forcefully. "Shepherd betrayed us!" The last words were spoken in a higher pitch in the British man's voice, and he glared at Wallcroft, who glared back.

"Ghost." At the words from the Scottish man, Ghost glared once more at Wallcroft before his gaze turned to Soap. The two stared at each other for a second before Ghost sighed in frustration and turned to walk away from Wallcroft. The sergeant blinked once, taking in the scarred man's words. A quick glance at Griffin, and he could tell his second in command was thinking the same thing he was. The man bore a striking semblance to Gaz. Ghost didn't dance around the bush, but rather plunged right through it. He was hostile, yet he was a good soldier. Price pulled him from his thoughts, and Wallcroft briefly thought on how wrong that encounter could have gone if Ghost had been harsher with him.

He wasn't sure who would have been left standing.

"Ghost is right, Wallcroft." Compared to the way Ghost had spoken to him, Price's voice seemed gentle, a word rarely, if ever, used to describe the captain. "When Roach and Ghost were evacuating from Makarov's safe house, Shepherd betrayed them." The captain spoke in a firm voice, and his gaze didn't glance at the two men in question, but rather stayed on Wallcroft.

There was something wrong with what he had stated though. If Shepherd had betrayed them, then how were the two men in question still alive. It wasn't like Shepherd to make those kinds of mistakes. "Do you remember when, five years ago Grigg's men were killed in Russia by Zakheav's nuke?" Wallcroft turned to Soap as he spoke, and nodded. "It changed his whole view on internation politics. He felt the world didn't give a damn when US military personnel were killed." Soap paused. "He betrayed us because he didn't want to risk us finding out the truth." Soap looked back at Wallcroft. "Do you remember when Private Allen was sent undercover to be Makarov's right hand man, and ended up dead?" When Wallcroft nodded, Soap continued on. "It was Shepherd who leaked information to Makarov." Soap turned to look at another man. "Roach, show him the DSM."

As the black haired man stood up, Wallcroft moved to follow him over to a computer tucked into a corner of the room. Roach's hands flew across the keyboard as he punched in commands, and a secured document came up. The black haired man moved back to give Wallcroft room to read, which he did. The man cursed, realizing it wasn't in English. "Redgrave." Wallcroft hadn't turned his head as he spoke, but a reddish brown haired man walked over and leaned down beside the console.

[Информация, полученная: Враг среди нас.]  
>[Источник: американский генерал]<br>[Причины утечки: неизвестно]  
>[Мотивы: неизвестно]<br>[План выпуска нападение на аэропорт Zakhaev]

"First line says Information received: Enemy among us. Second line. Source, American general. Third line; Reason for leak: unknown. Fourth line, Motives: unknown. Plan: Issue attack on Zakhaev Airport." The man read the Russian easily, as if it was a second language.

"Thanks, Mate." Redgrave just shrugged.

Redgrave scanned the rest of the document, scrolling through it quickly. "Nothing else about General Shepherd here."

Wallcroft turned towards Price. "I owe you an apology, Price."

The captain shrugged him off. "Don't worry about it, Mate."

The Sergeant looked at the men who were under his command, waiting for his orders. "Your men look tired. Let Griffin and Burns take the watch."

* * *

><p><strong>Well so much for the filler.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Well guys, its been a year since the last update, which I am sorry for. No internet access once again, so I'm updating stories with the new copy paste feature for us mobile phone users. I would like to apologize beforehand for the low quality of this chapter, it's a lot of work, time, and fighting to do this from an android, and having to click the down button to get to the end is rather stressful. I am not happy with this chapter at all, but I'm tired of fighting my phone, so this is what we get. I apologize.**

**September 4, 21:07:32**

**Task Force 141 - Disavowed**

**Simon "Ghost" Riley**

"Ghost, up now!"

The male sat up quickly, dark green eyes flying open as his name was called. Looking around franctically, the male's hardened instincts allowed Ghost to react quickly enough to catch the rifle Price tossed to him. "What's wrong, Price?"

"We're under attack! You and Roach are to get out the back and sneak around to the left flank. Archer and Toad are providing cover in the distance, and Wallcroft is holding the front lines with his men, Yuri, and Nikolai." The words from the captain were rushed, and near the end of his sitrep, he was already moving out of the room.

Ghost cursed as he rolled o ut of bed, throwing gear over his white t shirt. Grabbing the rifle Price tossed him, he realized it was an MP5 as he ran from the room quickly. His earpiece was jammed into his ear as he ran from the makeshift base. The sounds of gunfire, shouted orders, and the general chaos that was warfare spurred the Lieutenant on as he ran, frantically searching for his partner.

"Roach, where in the bloody hell are ya?"

"Three clicks southwest of the base." Ghost dropped to the ground on instinct when he heard the sound of hurried feet coming towards him. From the corner of his eye, the male could make out the uniform of Shadow Company. Ghost pulled his knife from its sheath, flipping the weapon in his hand to get a better grip on it. The enemy soldier approached him, causing the Brit to tense, adrenaline pumping through his veins. The black clad soldier took one, two, three steps closer to Ghost. Dark green eyes blazing, Ghost dove forward, driving the knife into the surprised soldier's leg. A howl of agony was silenced by a quick punch to the face, and the two males went down in a sprawling mass of flailing limbs, both trying to gain the upper hand from the other. They rolled, Ghost on top, then bottom, and back on top again. He pulled the knife from the American's leg, but he wasn't out of the fight yet. Both hands grabbed onto Ghost's own in a desperate attempt to thwart the attempt on his life. Fueled by a fear induced adrenaline rush, the American pushed Ghost's hands backwards, managing to get his feet under him in the distraction. He kicked up, hard, causing Ghost to cough, trying to recapture stolen air from his lungs. The British staggered backwards, gasping for air.

The American soldier pounced, knife in hand. He stabbed Ghost in the leg, causing a grunt from the male, adrenaline staving off the full effects of the pain. Ghost punched at the man's face, the American staggering back slightly, the hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife pulling the weapon free of Ghost's leg, causing the male to release a pain filled gasp. The other soldier brought the blood stained blade towards Ghost; the sun touched the blade's edge, creating a malicious glint, reflected in the eyes of the soldier. A brief sense of panic caught in the Lieutenant's throat, the effects of the adrenaline fading slowly away, the pain replacing its fleeting friend.

The crack of a single bullet filled the air, the man falling, knife released from his hand. Weight crushed onto his chest; the dead soldier had fallen onto him. Ghost felt a small feeling of reloef; death had once again been cheated.

The weight crushing his chest was lifted, and Ghost opened his eyes, seeing his partner standing before him, brown eyes drawn to the wound on his leg. "It's not too deep. Come on, we need to hold the left flank."

"Thanks Roach. You just saved my life."

The black haired man glanced at him, hauling the injured lieutenant to his feet, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "You've saved my life too many times to count."

"Hm, you've got a point there." Ghost chuckled slightly when Roach glared at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Archer<strong>

"Looks like Ghost is injured." The lead sniper spoke softly into the mike, left eye shut as he peered through the scope of his rifle with his right. "Toad, provide cover fire to the left flank."

"Roger that." The soft pinging from the American's suppressed rifle was hard to pick up on by most people, though Archer could easily distuinguish the sound. The British soldier aimed down his own sights, moving the rifle to survey the surrounding area. It was Toad who alerted the group to the surprise attack, and though the warning wasn't a good warning, it was enough for the elite soldiers to male due with. Now the two snipers were keeping the field alerted to the enemies' movements, allowing their captain to coordinate his men accordingly.

"Price, you've got seven tangos moving to your position, four more moving towards your flank. Shall I thin 'em out for ya?"

"Go for the flank, the seven are mine." The first soldier fell with a bullet to his chest before Price finished speaking, two more falling with another pull of the trigger. The last one didn't last more than a few seconds after his comrades fell.

"Flank clear." The sniper moved his rifle towards the helicopter, eye never leaving the scope. The male cursed when he spotted a large group of soldiers moving towards his allies. He saw Toad glance at him from the corner of his eye. "Price, you have hostiles moving towards the flanks. You're outnumbered and outgunned; get that bloody bird in the air." The words were barely out of his mouth when he heard Toad's rifle ringing in a solid, fast pace as shot after shot left the barrel.

"We'll keep you covered, Price. Just get thst damned bird in the air." Price issued orders to expedite the exfil. Wallcroft and Griffin were sent to help Ghost and Roach, while Yuri, Burns, Price, and Doc were to help and cover Soap. Archer moved his rifle towards the back of the building, knowing the rest of the soldiers had the front covered. A soldier fell dead from a bullet not from his own gun, and Archer knew Toad had caught onto the threat as well. Three shots left his barrel, three soldiers fell to the ground, dead.

Price kept in touch with the two snipers, so they wouldn't have to worry about checking the front to see if their allies needed help: if Price felt the front was getting too hot, Archer and Toad would take turns thinning the frontlines out for their comrades.

Progress was slow, moving the injured to the chopper. Burns took a graze to his shoulder, though the wound did nothing but cause enemy soldiers a quicker death in the American's anger. The fight died down a while ago, just a few stragglers remained. Toad put down his rifle and took up his normal role as spotter, seeking out enemy soldiers who were left. The sound of gunfire was rang in short bursts, one or two guns firing at a time.

The order was given for Roach and Redgrave to move towards the two snipers, in case an enemy soldier lay in wait for the snipers, armed only with their rifles. When the four made it to the chopper, Price and Wallcroft were discussing their next move.

"Contact MacMillan, Wallcroft. Tell him our situation. We can't keep running, not with Soap inhured so badly." He pointed to Ghost, who was sitting on the edge of the chopper, too preoccupied with the pain in his leg to participate in the discussion, the pain not being helped with Doc poking at it, trying to access the damage without any kind of pain killer. "Ghost just got off medical leave, and he's back on it. We'll be dead with weeks at this pace."


End file.
